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Bully (noun) use superior strength or influence to intimidate (someone), typically to force him or her to do what one wants.

Racism (noun) the belief that all members of each race possess characteristics or abilities specific to that race, especially so as to distinguish it as inferior or superior to another race or races. prejudice, discrimination, or antagonism directed against someone of a different race based on the belief that one's own race is superior.

So at work today my coworker downplayed racism as bullying. She said 

"bullying happens to everyone. It's just not right."

It came up because i mentioned a story of a friend of mine. He went out to eat with his children and someone called him a "fucking ch*nk"

she said that was bullying.

hence the definitions above.



Now...i'm no expert...not even close. 

but something just doesn't quite fit.




Another guy came in complaining that he got pulled over on the way to work. He didn't have proof of insurance on him. so he got away with a warning 

his complaint.

corworker "dammit...today had to be the day i wore my bob marley shirt." 

coworker 2 "yeah you should have worn a collar...you could have gotten off"




must be nice to live in a bubble

because black lives matter too....

Dear Sunny,

I remember the day I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified. I remember sitting in the bathroom just staring at that little stick, that pink line that literally changed everything that I thought life meant. I remember the first time i heard your heartbeat. The first time you kicked me in the ribs. That moment i realized that my body was sheltering something amazing.

protecting you.

i remember when you were born. the look on your face when the doctor lifted you up to the world. your first smile, your first laugh. your first steps

the first time i realized how little power i had to protect you

i remember the news of the little black boy shot in the street. the video black girl tackled to the ground after a pool party. the non guilty verdict of the police officer who shot a girl sleeping on the couch at your grandmother's house..

and every story i hear i remember that moment...when the doctor lifted you out of me and i realized that i no longer have the ability to protect you...

that in this world. in this country...where you and i live and breathe...i have so little power in saving you from anything.

i remember the first time you scraped your knee. the first time you bit your tongue, the first time you came home asking me why your hear wasn't straight like your friends.

i remember the first time you realized that stranger were staring at you in the street. that women were only petting your hair. that while blonde girls were told how delicate they were you were told how strong you look.

i remember the first time i had to tell you that you were black...and so things were different. you would always be treated different. and that black was beautiful. the curls in your hair were magical. the strength in your bones was majestic. that you were smart and you had to show people how smart you were.

and i remember that first time - when you looked at me with tears in your eyes and asked me

"but, mommy. if i'm a better listener...if i show them i'm smart...can i not be black anymore"

i cried myself to sleep that night...

and the night you begged for straight hair

and when you pushed that girl away for touching your hair

and bit your tongue when someone told you you were chocolate and not vanilla


and the first time i told you that you had to shake it off...and stand up straight and know that you were magic and strong and life wasn't fair...

and held back more tears about how unfair it was...


that my sweet baby...was realizing that i wasn't strong...and i couldn't protect her...



and i'm sorry for that.

for the unfairness. and the fear in the eyes. and the rigidity of my spine. and the different expectations placed on you than everyone else...


all i'm ever trying to do is protect you.

because while other women worry about what college their children will get into. what home they'll eventually buy...

mine if just that you are one of the few that make it that far


success for me...in parenting...in life..


is you

just living it

and i'm sorry that it can't be more....